


dwelling (on you)

by suheafoams



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Cat/Human Hybrids, Catboys, Getting Together, M/M, Slice of Life, Tooth Rotting Fluff, and they were ROOMMATES, kitty grooming, tsundere!seoho, unreliable narrator seoho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26128648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suheafoams/pseuds/suheafoams
Summary: “Isn’t it good that you’re getting along?” Youngjo asks, still stifling a laugh, and Seoho hisses grumpily. “Are you mad because you like him more than you expected? It’s okay to think people are cool, Seoho.”“I wanted a quiet housemate who would chop my utilities and rent in half, notwholesome affection,” Seoho says, which makes Youngjo snort in amusement.(all seoho wants is to live with someone he won't end up wanting to strangle. he gets a little or a lot more than that.)
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Lee Seoho
Comments: 31
Kudos: 238





	dwelling (on you)

**Author's Note:**

> i merely wanted to write 500 words of kitty geonhak grooming seoho and then this stupid thing GREW so please be gentle 
> 
> i have a soft spot for keonhee now after drawing him LMAO but i was very happy that i got to include him in the beginning of this!!! keonhee enthusiasts unite 
> 
> also i write a ton of catboy/animal things for seodo so its safe to assume that every new one is a new universe unless i specifically refer to previous things , ill just be the writer who wholeheartedly believes in many quantum seodos except they're ALL cats 
> 
> have fun! i hope you enjoy :>

Finding a new housemate is always a hassle. Unremarkable, tedious, a headache, at the bare minimum. 

Seoho prefers to be nagged at than be the one nagging, but the latter is far more common because he’s picky and sensitive, and the only reason he’s having to reset his life like this and search for someone new to live with is because Keonhee is moving across the country for a new fancy job at a studio he’s wanted to work at for years. Seoho won’t hold Keonhee back from following his dreams, but he _will_ glower at Keonhee every time Keonhee makes a wistful remark about how it’s so sad that their time together is coming to an end. 

It is kind of sad, actually. Seoho pretends not to notice that Keonhee is already packing a portion of his clothes and other belongings away into cardboard boxes, although he does leave a few Sharpie doodles here and there for Keonhee to discover when he’s settling in at his new place, thousands of miles away. Seoho won’t be following Keonhee to a foreign city to ensure that Keonhee gets the living daylights scared of him whenever he’s least expecting it, but at the very least, he’ll have some of Seoho’s chaos in the form of funny cat (and pigeon) drawings. 

“You’ll find someone nice to live with,” Keonhee tells Seoho every time he hears Seoho sighing at his phone at yet another awkward conversation with a prospective roommate. “Not as nice as me, of course, but certainly someone whose whiskers you won’t want to pull out.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Seoho says, pinching Keonhee’s palm lightly when Keonhee tries to hold his hand in a makeshift apology. “I’ll just perish. It’s fine.” 

When Youngjo suggests that Seoho live with a friend of his who’s also searching for a housemate to split rent with, Seoho is doubtful. Youngjo, however, reassures Seoho that _Geonhak_ is quiet and agreeable and not at all the type to get close to people of his own accord.

“He’s a cat, too,” Youngjo says in further attempts at persuasion, and that has Seoho’s ears twitching in interest at the thought of sharing an apartment with someone of a similar temperament. Puppies are loud, Birds get up too early, but Cats, for the most part, mind their own business and that is ideal in Seoho’s eyes. “He mostly keeps to himself. Works out in his free time, might bring you food, but he’ll never eat yours, and he’s considerate. It’ll be like living on your own minus the expenses.” 

In theory, it sounds great. 

Only when Seoho meets Geonhak in person, he doesn’t expect the man to be so…

... _pretty._

All Seoho can pay attention to while Youngjo introduces them to each other is that the jet black fur of Geonhak’s pointed ears is soft and shiny, that Geonhak looks unreasonably _nice_ in a boring, white t-shirt, and that Geonhak’s eyes are filled with kindness and turn a disgustingly cute crescent shape whenever he covers his face to laugh shyly. 

Seoho dislikes it when he finds people pretty, but he _hates_ it when he can sense something soft, something earnest in a personality. His first instinct is to swat at Geonhak for daring to be his type, and then Youngjo for not warning him beforehand that Geonhak would be his type, but Seoho survives the rest of the coffee shop meeting by looking at Youngjo’s stupid face as much as possible and resolutely ignoring the way Geonhak’s gaze flickers with something undefinable every time Seoho glances in his direction and offers Geonhak a smile to be polite. 

The attraction complicates things on Seoho’s end, internally, but Geonhak is such an ideal choice for a housemate that it doesn’t make any sense to reject him, and Seoho seals his fate when he signs a new lease for an entire year with Geonhak. Their apartment is in a decent part of town, and it’ll likely end up higher on Seoho’s mental ranking of places he’s lived if there aren’t any unexpected issues management avoided notifying them about. 

Seoho expects for him and Geonhak to move in and do their own thing separately, but somehow Geonhak ends up disassembling all of Seoho’s furniture and putting it back together at the new apartment, and he brings home Chinese takeout for dinner while Seoho switches out the locks on their front door with fresh ones as a safety precaution. 

To Seoho’s continued surprise, Geonhak also buys a keychain to put on their shared laundry key, and Seoho laughs when he sees the two fluffy mini cat plushies hanging from Geonhak’s hand. One of them is orange, the other one red. “No black kitties?” Seoho asks. 

“They were out of stock, I guess,” Geonhak says, not looking at Seoho because he’s putting up a command hook so they can hang the laundry key by the front door. “And this is the only one that came in a little pair.” 

The friendliness should, by all means, end there. Seoho figures it’s fine because Geonhak will most likely keep a distance once they’re both settled in, and that they won’t be spending enough time together for Seoho’s attraction to grow into any real attachment. Seoho’s learned from experience that it’s better to draw boundaries between him and whoever he’s living with, and that the less he sees of his housemates, the less likely he’ll want to strangle them in the long run. 

Except Seoho has been _lied_ to. 

Scammed. Robbed of his emotional well being, because Geonhak is nothing like Youngjo promised he would be. 

Gone is the shy, withdrawn man who’d looked like he had nothing in common with Seoho on their first meeting, who’d hovered near Seoho like he wasn’t sure whether he should get any closer while Youngjo was busy pestering the tall, flustered barista behind the counter into giving Youngjo his number. In that reserved man’s place is a friendly, giggly one who definitely doesn’t keep to himself, drawing Seoho into easy conversation every chance he gets and inadvertently wrapping his tail around Seoho’s thigh if they’re standing close to each other. If Seoho stares long enough, Geonhak gets self-conscious and removes his tail, but it won’t be long before his tail is wrapping once again around Seoho’s leg, and Seoho gets accustomed to lint rolling his pants and seeing black fur on the sheets along with his own orange hairs. 

Geonhak is touchy, too, when he gets comfortable, even if Seoho has no idea what he’s done to warrant that kind of behavior. Maybe it’s that Seoho often greets Geonhak when either of them come home, or that he makes sure to offer Geonhak a share of whatever he’s baked out of boredom because he feels guilty for making the whole apartment smell like chocolate. Geonhak doesn’t always want a chunk of double fudge brownie, but Seoho’s interest is piqued when he realizes Geonhak is more apt to wander into the kitchen at the smell of something lemon flavored baking in the oven. 

Whatever the reason for Geonhak being so comfortable is, Geonhak is always wrapping an arm around Seoho’s neck, holding onto Seoho’s arm as he laughs into Seoho’s side, smoothing out a misbehaving strand of fur on Seoho’s ears...the list goes on. He curls up next to Seoho to watch Seoho play games on his phone, sometimes reads updates on romance webtoons along with Seoho, although there are plenty of days where he’s the one dragging Seoho out of the apartment for a bike ride or a game of basketball at the nearby park. 

Seoho didn’t sign up for this much noise in his home life, and he hates being touched carelessly, but for some reason... he finds it impossible to shove Geonhak out of his personal bubble the effortless way he does it to other people. Maybe it’s that unlike some of Seoho’s other friends, who pull and cling and hug Seoho all they want with no consideration for his aversion to casual touch, Geonhak pays attention to the details and takes it personally at first when Seoho doesn’t always want to be crawled on. A pouty, wounded Geonhak is oddly hard to bear for Seoho, so Seoho learns to be patient and simply rearranges Geonhak’s limbs and hands into better, less suffocating positions as a compromise. 

...Or it’s because Geonhak buys Seoho dinner more often than not, and Seoho would be ungrateful to bite the hand that literally feeds him. That’s probably it. 

(The truth is, Geonhak’s personality is noninvasive no matter what he’s doing. Even when he’s play-fighting with Seoho, he always softens the pose of his fingers so that Seoho never gets hurt, only uses a fraction of his strength so that Seoho never ends up with any real bruises except for the occasional ones on his ego. Geonhak is well versed enough in Seoho’s personality and mood shifts, these days, that he knows when to settle for a hand at the hem of Seoho’s t-shirt or a brief pat on Seoho’s thigh instead of his usual full-body-clinging.) 

Thinking about all the ways Geonhak has sneakily fit into his life makes Seoho’s icy kitten heart threaten to thaw out, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Younger Seoho would swipe cups off of tables onto the ground just to watch them shatter, but Seoho’s older and wiser now, or something, and it’s impractical to make a mess just because he’s feeling petulant. He can’t even resort to making psychological messes in other people’s hearts, because an irritated, noisy Geonhak will just remind Seoho that he likes his housemate enough to think that a one year lease is kind of _short,_ a thought he’s never had towards anyone else except for Keonhee _._

When Seoho complains about all this to Youngjo with the most sour facial expression he can muster, Youngjo just laughs softly at him. 

“Isn’t it good that you’re getting along?” Youngjo asks, still stifling a laugh, and Seoho hisses grumpily. He wants to grab Youngjo by the collar or something equally drastic to show Youngjo that he’s in _real_ distress. Youngjo delights in getting along with everyone and anyone, though, so Seoho shouldn’t bother trying to explain his feelings seriously when it only means Youngjo’s going to coo at him like Seoho’s a belligerent elementary schooler who’s stopped starting fights on the playground and started playing nice. “Are you mad because you like him more than you expected? It’s okay to think people are cool, Seoho.” 

“I wanted a quiet housemate who would chop my utilities and rent in half, not _wholesome affection_ ,” Seoho says, which makes Youngjo snort in amusement. “Tell me the truth, is he actually a puppy? Is this your secret plot to get me to like dogs?” 

“Harin’s a dog and you like him just fine, even if you never say it to his face,” Youngjo says. He runs a hand through his hair. For how much he talks about maintaining and dying it, you’d think he would try out more colors, but he always shows up with the same shade of dark brown. “I genuinely didn’t know Geonhak would be like that? He’s usually quiet around new people and takes a long time to open up, so I’m just as surprised as you are that he’s taken a liking to you.” 

“I’m a likeable person,” Seoho says, to which Youngjo merely nods supportively. “But also, I’m moving out. I can't live like this.” 

“Don’t be dramatic,” Youngjo says. “Would you really rather go back to having roommates who made you upset enough to consider strangulation?” 

“I don’t know,” Seoho says, sliding deeper into the comfort of his hoodie. Animosity is a much simpler emotion than whatever he feels towards Geonhak and the little squeeze squishy thing Geonhak makes with his whole face whenever he’s amused by something Seoho says. “Maybe I should claw his eyes out. This is all your fault.” 

“ _My_ fault?” Youngjo says. “I brought fortune and friendship into your life, albeit unknowingly.” 

“You didn’t tell me Geonhak was _cute_ ,” Seoho says, then clenches his teeth when he realizes what he’s revealed. “Scratch that. I said nothing.” 

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Youngjo says meaningfully, as his tail conveys its agreement by curling into a S shape of intrigue. There’s not even a teasing tone to his voice, which makes it so much worse. Seoho needs new friends. Ones he can bully into submission and who won’t perceive his real emotions. “That’s why.” 

Seoho crosses his arms. “What?” 

“For someone who likes reading romance webtoons so much, you’re very allergic to real life romance.” 

“Real life—” Seoho bristles, and his ears flatten unhappily. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” 

“Geonhak thought you were really cute, that first meeting,” Youngjo says. “He said your eye smile was nice.” He pauses, and grins when he sees Seoho’s ears. “Didn’t know your fur was capable of shifting red, Seoho.” 

“I’ll shred your nice, expensive shirt and make your chest bloom red,” Seoho says venomously, but Youngjo doesn't look even a bit unnerved at the possibility of Seoho attacking him, just smiles at Seoho. 

“Geonhak’s a good boy,” Youngjo says. “And so are you, even if you like to hiss and pretend you’re all claws. If you’re having that good of a time living with him, why not just make him your boyfriend?” 

Seoho’s eyebrows raise at the word _boyfriend_ but he does his best to make sure it comes across as dismissive and nothing else. “Why are you saying that like he’s an apple I can just pick off a tree and take home?” 

“To be fair, half your work is done because he’s already in your home—” Youngjo points out, and Seoho groans into his hands.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Cut it _out_ ,” Seoho says, pulling his hand free from where it’s squished between him and Geonhak and pushing lightly at Geonhak’s jaw until Geonhak finally stops in the middle of licking a long stripe up the side of Seoho’s cheek to listen to what his (understandably) miffed housemate has to say. 

Geonhak sniffs, nose wrinkling and eyebrows furrowing at being told to cease his grooming. Because their faces are so close to each other, his stare goes a little cross-eyed as he observes Seoho’s saliva-slicked-back, orange hair before he looks into Seoho’s eyes like a puppy who’s been kicked. 

“I’m not done yet, though,” he says, carefully, and Seoho blinks at him. 

“I’m getting covered in your spit,” Seoho says. He sighs when he looks at his phone screen and realizes he hasn’t processed a single event in the current update of his favorite webtoon, thanks to Geonhak’s sandpapery tongue. “It’s gross.” 

“I’m cleaning you,” Geonhak counters. “I’m being nice.” 

“You don’t need to,” Seoho says. “You can be nice to me from a distance instead of suffocating me with your body heat and beefy arms.” 

Geonhak tilts his head, pouting a little, and Seoho is going to melt. Not because Geonhak is cute, but because Geonhak is more furnace than cat or human. Obviously. “I want to, though,” Geonhak says. “You always wake me up in the morning sweetly.” 

“Sweetly?” Seoho echoes, confused. He doesn’t like the hopeful look in Geonhak’s face because it makes Seoho’s insides twist up with something similar, and so Seoho reaches for the laser toy on the shelf behind them to distract Geonhak. 

Geonhak shifts against him, pressing closer, and Seoho suddenly becomes all too aware of their noses nearly brushing as Geonhak pries the laser toy out of Seoho’s hands and tosses it to the other side of the couch where Seoho can’t reach, effectively putting an end to Seoho’s mischief before it can even begin. 

“You nuzzle at my forehead and run your fingers through my hair until I start to wake up fully,” Geonhak says, and Seoho’s cheeks flush red with embarrassment. “If you sense me moving around, you switch to standing up and shake my shoulders like it’s what you were doing the whole time.” 

Seoho hadn’t realized Geonhak was aware of the nuzzling, had assumed that because he himself took at least half an hour every morning before any conversations and interactions stuck in his memory as real events, that he could get away with being kind to Geonhak when no one was looking. Geonhak makes these little purring noises, sometimes, when Seoho risks a few chin scratches, and they’re endearing even if they’re just as deep as Geonhak’s speaking voice. Most days, Geonhak’s shirt rides up to his chest, and if Seoho is particularly (un)lucky, Geonhak will make a semi-rare, higher pitched whine when Seoho reaches to pull his shirt down for him, instinctively wrapping fingers around Seoho’s wrist even as his eyes remain closed and his breaths stay too even for him to be conscious yet. 

“I don’t do that,” Seoho says as he forcibly shoves the image of a sleep tousled, mewling Geonhak out of mind and out of sight, but Geonhak doesn’t seem to buy it. 

Seoho wouldn’t buy it either because there’s no conviction to the words and he’s a horrible liar. Geonhak is an equally horrible liar, but unlike Seoho, Geonhak isn’t allergic to giving and receiving affection and therefore he has nothing to hide. 

“When you were mending Pepe’s shirt that one time,” Geonhak says, referring to Seoho’s most treasured plushie, “I remember looking at your hands and thinking that it was easy to tell when you care about something by how gently you touch it, and then wondering why I was so sure of that.” He pokes at Seoho’s flattened ears, lifting them to see if it’ll translate into Seoho being less flustered, less upset. Seoho flattens his ears as soon as Geonhak lets go of them, and Geonhak chuckles in defeat. “I figured out later that I somehow knew what it felt like to have your hands in my hair.” 

It’s horrible that Geonhak loves being touched as much as Seoho hates it, because he’s staring at Seoho all soft and gooey and _warm_ , the same way he does whenever Seoho brings home an order of poke for him with all of Geonhak’s favorite fish and toppings, which Seoho had casually, accidentally memorized after listening to Geonhak’s order once. Seoho can’t remember phone numbers very well and always forgets the necessities he needs to buy at the grocery store, but somehow he remembers inconsequential things like Geonhak disliking sauces that lean too sweet and wanting extra salmon if it’s available. It’s a ~mystery~ how his own brain works. 

“And yet,” Seoho says, as evenly as he can manage while Geonhak pats at his hair, “you still mistreat Pepe despite knowing how important he is.” 

“He’s your only weakness,” Geonhak says sheepishly. He stops patting Seoho’s hair, letting his hand drop to the back of Seoho’s neck. “And if I have him in my hands, it means you’re paying attention to me, so...” 

He licks Seoho’s cheek again as if that’s a proper way to end a sentence, and Seoho really wants to sink his claws into Geonhak’s bicep as revenge for all the butterflies that have been stuck in Seoho’s stomach for months because of Geonhak’s stupid laugh and shiny fur and much too gentle personality. 

Instead, Seoho bites back a hiss as he says, “...I’m going to leave a dead bird on your face to wake you up next time.” 

“I prefer kitty kisses from a tangerine-head,” Geonhak says. 

“Those aren’t _kisses_ ,” Seoho protests, voice going shrill. How dare Geonhak twist his actions and intentions into something they’re _not._

“So you’ll give me real ones, right?” Geonhak asks. 

“Don’t count on it,” Seoho says. “Expect rat pieces scattered throughout your bed tomorrow at 7 AM. Fresh protein.” 

“Sure,” Geonhak says, but he’s smiling and absentmindedly massaging the tense muscles of Seoho’s shoulder, and Seoho hates how obvious Geonhak makes it that he doesn’t believe for one moment Seoho will follow through on that threat. 

✧ ✧ ✧

Generously, Seoho wakes Geonhak up with a kiss on the mouth the next morning, then promptly regrets it when Geonhak smiles at him the whole day, and continues to smile at Seoho like an idiot for the rest of the week. Seoho likes it better when they’re play-fighting, or when he’s doing the psychological equivalent of shoving cups to the floor for Geonhak to clean up and Geonhak is the one swatting at Seoho for being a pest. 

“You look stupid when you smile, so stop it,” Seoho tells him after Geonhak gets too close, _again_ , and he pulls on Geonhak’s tail hard enough that Geonhak winces at the pain. 

“Sorry,” Geonhak says, but he doesn’t seem to be very hurt by Seoho’s insults these days, and Seoho’s heart twists like a traitor when Geonhak sprawls out across his lap, stretching his wiry limbs leisurely and letting the end of his tail purposely meet with Seoho’s so that their combined tails form a half orange, half black heart. “I don’t like your smile all that much either.” 

“What is that supposed to—” 

“We’re talking in opposites, right?” Geonhak asks, and Seoho wants to pull Geonhak up by the back of his shirt and shake him in frustration. Geonhak plucks at the soft material of Seoho’s hoodie, sneaking his hand into Seoho’s sleeve until he finds Seoho’s hand and intertwines their fingers. “Anyways. Remember how I said Pepe was your only weakness?” 

Seoho squeezes Geonhak’s hand briefly, experimentally. Warm, just like the rest of Geonhak and his personality, and Seoho thinks he should stock up on some of his favorite oversized sweaters because he’s starting to treat Geonhak like one of them. “What about it?” 

“I don’t think he’s your only weakness, now,” Geonhak says, and he sounds so smug about being even competition with the stuffed frog that Seoho breaks their tail-heart for the sole purpose of swiping his tail across Geonhak’s nose, laughing when Geonhak sputters and sneezes at the tickling of fur where he’s most sensitive.

Maybe Seoho and Geonhak work well together as housemates and well, more. Seoho is still thinking about it as he chews on Geonhak’s hair as payback for all the grooming he’d suffered through yesterday, but Geonhak purrs so happily into Seoho’s chest that Seoho’s soon purring, too, against his better judgment, and then Seoho swats at Geonhak for tricking him into revealing how content he is when they’re like this, just the two of them.

Geonhak whines, “What did I do?” 

“You got too confident,” Seoho says. “That’s too much happiness in one room. We need to balance it out.” 

“Too much happiness…?” 

“Part of it’s mine,” Seoho says, with a long suffering sigh, and Geonhak giggles into Seoho’s shirt so adorably that Seoho doesn’t know whether he wants to yank on Geonhak’s tail or kiss the top of Geonhak’s head in between his ears. 

(He settles for both, to the mixed delight and chagrin of Geonhak.) 

**Author's Note:**

> **thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this pls consider leaving teeny or any size comment! writers flourish with Tangible interaction~**


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